


A Companion for Brock

by Griselda_Gimpel



Category: Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, also tashir is a horse now, i ain't saying the author is dead; i'm saying they're wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26276920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griselda_Gimpel/pseuds/Griselda_Gimpel
Summary: Set after the story "Brock" in the anthology Sun in Glory and Other Tales of Valdemar. When an evil wizard comes to town, it's up to Brock to protect the townspeople.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	A Companion for Brock

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so here's the background on this fic. I have a formal diagnosis of "possibly somewhere on the Asperger's spectrum". And part of all of that is that I have difficulties sometimes with verbal communication. So I have little tolerance for stories that treat verbal proficiency as an indicator of cognitive ability. And I sure as Hell am not here for a story that tells me that neuroatypicality disqualifies one from being a Herald. So yeah, this is a fix-it fic. If Brock is capable enough to act as a Herald for the town, then he's capable enough to be Chosen.

Brock started hearing voices (well, one voice) the same day that the evil wizard showed up, but the voice started a little before noon, and the wizard didn’t appear until the sun was directly overhead. It was a few days after Jors, Gervis, Isabel, and Calida had all left. Two of the boys in the town had been hitting a younger girl with sticks, so Brock had snatched the sticks away from them.

“No hitting,” he was in the process of telling them when a voice in his head said, : _I can’t wait to meet you._ : Brock started and looked around. “Who’s talking?” he asked.

“You are, Brock the Rock!” the boys replied and then begin chanting ‘Brock the Rock’ in glee. Then they ran off. The girl ducked away, as well.

: _Oh, dear, I’m sorry about that,_ : the voice said. : _Try speaking to me in your mind. I should be able to hear you._ :

: _Can you hear me?_ : Brock tried.

: _Perfectly_ ,: the voice said.

Brock smiled as he headed to his next task as a Herald, which was to chop wood for the weaver who’d pulled a muscle in her arm. It was so much easier talking in his head than out loud. His words never came out of his mouth the way they were in his head, but talking in his mind posed no difficulties.

: _I heard about you from Gervis_ ,: the voice went on in explanation. : _I heard what you did. You are a fine Herald._ :

: _Thank you. Gervis is nice. So are Jors, Calida, and Isabel._ :

There was something like a mental snort in response, followed by a pause before the voice “spoke” again. : _Isabel and I had a disagreement about your fitness as a Herald, but it’s my decision, not hers._ :

It was then, just as Brock had started on the wood, that the wizard appeared. He was impossible to miss. He wore dark blue robes with yellow stars embroidered on them. Also, as soon as he reached the center of the town, he bellowed, “I am the Wizard Rorlan, and I own this town!”

: _There’s a wizard threatening the town,_ : Brock told the voice.

: _I know,_ ” the voice responded unhappily. : _I am almost there. Can you keep him occupied until then?_ :

: _Yes,_ : Brock promised. He was a Herald, and Heralds protected people. The townspeople who weren’t hiding in their homes were cowering in the square when Brock approached, axe in hand. He whistled, and Rock, who’d been sleeping in the shade of a tree, came to stand two arms lengths away from him, teeth barred.

“So another one comes to watch,” Rorlan sneered. “Oh, don’t think I haven’t noticed. You pitiful Valdemarans have been hiding and watching me since I stepped foot in this land. But you’ve all been too afraid to face me. Unless _you_ intend to challenge me.”

“Not your town,” Brock told him firmly. “Bad man. Go away.”

The wizard laughed, and while the wizard laughed, Brock swung the axe at him. The wizard ducked at the last minute, his mirth replaced by swears. He rolled to get back on his feet, but Rock grabbed ahold of the wizard’s robes and tugged, causing the wizard to stumble. He fell on his side, muttered something, and then flung a lightning bolt at Brock. It happened very quickly, and if it had been a better aimed shot, Brock wouldn’t have been able to get out of the way in time. As it was, it was a hurried shot, so Brock was able to move out of the way just enough for it to shoot past him and destroy a weathervane instead.

Brock and the wizard both clambered to their feet and eyed each other wearily. Rock kept his distance from Brock, and the wizard kept having to switch his focus. If he attacked one, he invariably left himself open for an attack from the other. So he stayed on defense and began speaking again.

“Watching watching all of you watching,” he said. “All of you watching all of the time, waking or sleeping. Once I’ve dealt with you and that damned dog, I’m going to summon corbies to pick out the eyes of my new subjects. They’ll serve me blindly when I’m done with them.” He gave a sharp little laugh.

“Bad man,” Brock said. He caught a glimpse of something white coming up behind the wizard.

: _Keep his attention on you,_ : the voice in his head said.

Brock thought hard and then smiled to himself. He pointed at his own chest. “Herald Brock.”

The wizard laughed again, a hearty chuckle this time. “I’ve fought Heralds before. You, my young friend, are no Herald.”

“Herald,” Brock insisted.

“Oh? Where are your robes?”

Brock concentrated hard and tried to get the right words out. “Stripped Herald still Herald.”

“Where’s your Companion then?”

The Wizard Rorlan never got to hear any response Brock might have made because right then the Companion that had come up silently behind the wizard reared up and then brought his weight crashing down on the wizard via two thrashing hooves. Rorlan died instantly, his body crumpling to the ground. Brock dropped the axe in relief.

The Companion snorted and then came over to Brock, nuzzling him. : _I am Tashir,_ : the Companion said. : _You are my Chosen._ : Brock looked into his eyes and nearly began crying from joy. He’d been around Companions before, and while all of them were wonderful, he was confident that none were as wonderous as _his_.

: _All Heralds feel that way about their Companions,_ : Tashir told him, : _And we feel the same about our Heralds. Now look in my pack. There’s something for you._ : Brock took the pack off of Tashir and started to open it. : _I got this from Gervis. Jors was supposed to give you this later. It’s later now._ :

Brock was suddenly aware of the eyes of the townspeople on him as his trembling hands opened up the pack. Even those who had been hiding in their houses had come out to stare at him and the magnificent hooved being beside him in awe. The pack open, Brock reached in and pulled out the cloth inside. The pack fell to the ground, and the garments unfolded in his hands, revealing a beautiful set of Heraldic Whites.


End file.
